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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27175174">Tenera</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggys_cupcake_girl/pseuds/foggys_cupcake_girl'>foggys_cupcake_girl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kinktober 2020 [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Era, Clothed Sex, Couch Cuddles, Credence has the patience of a saint, Gift Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Kinktober, M/M, Massage, Missing Scene, Percival wears too many layers, Sorry Not Sorry, like really soft, soft smut, this is probably more feels-tober than kinktober</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:08:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,307</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27175174</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggys_cupcake_girl/pseuds/foggys_cupcake_girl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of a bad day, Percival reluctantly turns to his husband for comfort. Credence is more than willing to make Percival feel better...but first he wants it known in no uncertain terms that Percival has nothing to be sorry for.</p><p> </p><p>DAY 24 of Kinktober<br/>Written for prompts: Massage | Clothed sex</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Credence Barebone/Original Percival Graves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kinktober 2020 [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950283</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tenera</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ponyonewt/gifts">Ponyonewt</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Yes, I did use Kinktober prompts to write a present!fic, because I have no time anymore lol.</p><p>This is for the lovely Ponyonewt, who I think actually likes Liberandum better than I do. ;)</p><p>For those who have not read Liberandum, literally all you need to know is that they're married (which you could've guessed from the summary) and Credence once saved Percival from Grindelwald. And that Percival is a self-sacrificing perfectionist (which you probably already knew). ;)</p><p>Takes place between chapter 12 and the epilogue. &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I always know when Percival has had a bad day.</p><p>He’s always achingly careful to not slam a door or kick the furniture or smash a coffee cup, no matter how badly I know he wants to. He doesn’t want to frighten me, and he thinks if he blows off some steam I’ll be upset. So he just comes home and sits down in a huff, trying (and failing) to mask the thunderous expression on his face when he looks at me.</p><p>“What happened?” I ask as I set aside my textbook and get up to fix him a drink.</p><p>“Nothing.” At my skeptical look he sighs and says, “All right, it was a bad raid.”</p><p>“Did you lose anyone?”</p><p>“No, but I did screw up.” I bring him the gillywater and watch in silence as he downs the whole thing in about two swallows. “They were trafficking unicorns and got away with three foals. Newt’s heartbroken, of course. I’d be shocked if he’s not home right now crying on Tina’s shoulder. I had to hold him back from running straight into the wall after the bastards, when they disappeared.”</p><p>I wince a little at the mental image. Poor Newt. When a creature is abused or endangered, he tends to lose it and I completely understand why. And Percival, fiercely protective of his friends as he tends to be, hates it when Newt is upset. “It wasn’t your fault,” I tell him as I reach out and undo his scorpion collar pins.</p><p>He pouts and avoids my eyes. “You can’t possibly know that.”</p><p><em> And didn’t we all see that coming, </em> I think, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “Did you fight as hard as you could?” I unknot his tie and pull it through his collar, then push his jacket from his shoulders.</p><p>Percival barely seems to notice I’m undressing him. “Of course we did. Newt was spectacular. Fired off jinxes like a man possessed and managed to get over half the unicorns out of there.” He winces as I unbutton his vest and make to push it off. “Careful, sweetheart. I…may or may not have acquired a few injuries.”</p><p>“Of course you did,” I sigh. I cast a quick, wandless diagnostic spell and find that he’s mostly fine—just a few bruises and some stiff, sore muscles. “Stay still,” I order him as I stand up and move around behind him.</p><p>Percival obligingly stays still as I kneel behind him on the couch, so as to get a better angle to gently massage his tense shoulders. “Oh,” he sighs, head falling limply forward as I press a little deeper. “That’s…oh, that’s nice.”</p><p>“Good. I want you to feel nice.” </p><p>“I don’t deserve it.”</p><p>“Don’t say that. I hate it when you say that.” </p><p>“I’m sorry,” he says repentantly. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”</p><p>“Don’t be sorry. Let me make you feel better.” I move my hands across the stiff muscles until I feel him beginning to relax. Percival carries <em> so much </em> with him every day. The potions he takes are supposed to soothe the worst of his PTSD-related anxiety, but only something that completely knocked him out could prevent him from feeling that the weight of the entire world is on his shoulders. That’s just <em> Percival, </em> has been since the day we met. He’s always taken on more responsibility than he should, then blamed himself when he inevitably can’t keep every ball in the air.</p><p>This is far from the first time he’s come home late and in a bad mood, blaming himself for failure even if he logically knows it wasn’t his fault. And it certainly won’t be the last.</p><p>But at least I can do this much. I knead his shoulders until I feel the tension slowly drain away, relishing the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his dress shirt, enjoying the inevitable give of his muscles beneath my hands. I made Newt teach me how to do this after the third time Percival came home in tears of rage because he failed on a mission. “Relax,” I urge him gently, and he responds with a low moan. “It’s over. You did the best you could, and maybe it didn’t go as well as you wanted, but it’s over now and you need to rest.”</p><p>“You’re too good to me, sweetheart,” Percival murmurs unhappily, and I can’t see his face but I know what it looks like right now, know his eyes are downcast and his lips trembling. He doesn’t like me to see him upset, but he knows better than to try and run away from me.</p><p>“No, I’m not.” I pause in my ministrations and rest my head on his shoulder. “Why do you always do this to yourself? Percival, you’re…you’re <em> amazing. </em> You survived <em> Grindelwald. </em> So what if this time the bad guys got away? You’ll get them next time—”</p><p>“I only survived Grindelwald because you saved me,” he bursts out. I raise my head and look at him, just enough to see the expression of raw pain on his face. “I’m not good enough for you, Credence. Never have been. I let myself get caught, I let you get hurt—you’ve never held it against me, I don’t even know why, but I <em> did. </em> I let you down. And today I let down Newt, and the unicorns we were trying to save, and—and every time—”</p><p>“Every time you don’t get the right outcome on a raid,” I finish softly, “you think you’ve let me down all over again.” Finally I understand. I close him in my arms, tilting his head back against my chest. “Percival…I will never, <em> ever </em> hold it against you that <em> he </em> kidnapped and tortured you. Never. <em> Never. </em> I came after you <em> because I loved you, </em> because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.” I kiss the side of his face and am unsurprised when I lick salt off my lips. He’ll die if I call attention to the fact that he’s in tears. So all I say is, “I <em> still </em> love you. I <em> still </em> can’t bear the thought of losing you. All I care about is that you <em> come home </em> after your raids. I don’t care how many arrests you make. Just come home safe.”</p><p>I go back to rubbing his shoulders, working my thumbs into the base of his neck until he can’t help but let out a little grunt of pleasure. He tries to hold out every time, but inevitably he will succumb to me, I know he will. I move down his back, slow and steady, until he grabs a pillow from the other end of the couch and obligingly leans forward into it so I can get at his lower back. “There,” I say, satisfied, as he groans and melts into the cushion. “Doesn’t that feel better?”</p><p>“Much,” he agrees with a sigh. Slowly he sits up and turns to face me, his hand tenderly cupping my cheek as he brushes his thumb over my lower lip. “I’d love to kiss you.”</p><p>“I won’t stop you,” I reply with a smile, and he moans softly before he drops his mouth to mine with a kind of beautiful, desperate inevitability.</p><p>Percival kisses with his whole body, his whole soul. He hauls me forward into his lap and wraps himself around me like a shield, his hands tangling desperately in my hair as his mouth works furiously against mine. I kiss back for all I’m worth, trying to tell him without words <em> it’s all right, I still love you, you didn’t fail, it’s going to be all right—maybe it’s not right now, but eventually it </em> will <em> be all right. </em> I link my fingers behind his neck and hold him there when he tries to pull back. I’m going to kiss him, I think, until his heart melts and his mind calms and he’s able to forget how unhappy he is with himself.</p><p>I straddle him as slowly and carefully as I can, giving him time to push me away if he isn’t in the mood for this. When he doesn’t resist I get a little bolder, and unbutton his shirt halfway down so I can break our kiss just long enough to suck a bruise into his neck. He groans quietly and lets his head fall to the side. “Sweet boy. You’re just spoiling me now,” he breathes.</p><p>“Sh-h-h. I want to make you feel good. Please let me.” I kiss him again, soft and slow and full of tender promises, and when I feel him surrender to the kiss I reward him by reaching up and lightly swirling my thumbs over his peaking nipples. He squirms under me and I take it as a good sign. “There’s just one problem,” I murmur against his lips. “We’re both still wearing pants.”</p><p>Percival laughs uncertainly, not sure if that’s supposed to be funny or not. I pull back and undo his belt and fly, and gently coax his length out through the slit of his underclothes. With an impatient wave of my hand I vanish my own pants, leaving me naked from the waist down. Percival looks at me, a little stunned. “You really want me right now?” he says in a soft, tentative voice that breaks my heart.</p><p>I nod and let my obscurus unfurl itself from my back, wrapping us both up in a silky black cloud, shutting out most of the light and providing a safe little cocoon. He likes sex with the lights off. He prefers the close-pressing intimacy of darkness. I like it like that too…but then again as long as it’s with him, I like it <em> any </em> way. “Yes. I want my husband, the man I love more than life itself, to make love to me,” I tell him, trailing my hand down the expanse of his perfect chest. “I want you to know that there is <em> nothing </em> you could do, at home or at work, that would make me stop wanting you.”</p><p>Percival tugs me back into his lap with a low groan. “Well then, angel. Take what you want from me. I’m all yours.”</p><p>“And I belong to you,” I tell him as I line us up, “just as you belong to me.” Silently, I cast the spell to open myself up,  produce slick from thin air to ease the way. Percival likes to do this part, usually the no-maj old-fashioned way, but today I’m too eager to feel him. I’ve had that problem a lot, honestly, since we defeated Grindelwald. I know it bothers him sometimes that I’m so impatient but—just like with his hang-ups—we’re working on it. </p><p>I sink down slowly, enjoying the feeling of my body parting to make way for his. He watches, entranced, as we become one. “I will never get used to this,” he breathes, wrapping both arms close around me and cradling me against his chest. He’s so tender; he’s never anything <em> but </em> tender with me, and I don’t hold back my moans of pleasure as I begin to slowly, steadily rock against him.</p><p>He eventually has to stop cuddling me as I pick up the pace. Instead, he settles his hands on my hips and grips me tight, helps me bounce up and down in his lap. “You should see yourself,” he says, breathless and shaking, as we move together. He helps, thrusting up into me with all the energy he can muster. “You should see how beautiful you are. Mercy Lewis, angel…I could look at nothing but you for the rest of my life and be content.”</p><p>“I love you,” I tell him in reply. I move faster, gripping his shoulders tight as I feel the tell-tale tightening in my belly that heralds my approaching climax. “I love you, Percival, I’ll never not love you.”</p><p>His hands roam up and down my back, eyes combing over my body, my face, as if he can’t get enough of me. I bounce myself up and down with abandon, unable to hold back my whimpers and gasps as the pleasure inexorably builds inside me. “I’m close,” I tell him, and my head flings back of its own accord as, moments later, I come to an untouched climax, a sob of pleasure ripping its way from my throat as I clench down on him.</p><p>Percival groans deeply and drops his head into the crook of my neck. With a few more aborted, quivering thrusts he finds his own pleasure inside me. I feel his warmth inside me and all around me, feel his heart pounding against my shoulder as he clings to me like I’ll disappear when he lets go.</p><p>“I don’t know how it’s possible,” he whispers, his voice raw with longing, “but I swear to Hades, Credence, you make me fall a little harder each day. I keep thinking I can’t possibly love you any more, and then…and then I do.”</p><p>His hands are all over me, stroking my back, petting my hair, tenderly cupping my shoulders, fingertips caressing the base of my neck. He never took off my shirt, I realize, and a giggle works its way out before I can stop myself. “We’re still dressed,” I point out.</p><p>Percival laughs and stands up, keeping me firmly cradled in his arms the whole time. “Shall we fix that? That bathtub is calling my name. What would you say to a nice hot soak, and then a nice hot dinner, and then more of…” He looks meaningfully down at the mess between us.</p><p>“I’d like nothing better.”</p><p>I tuck my head into the crook of his neck, chasing the childlike sensation of safety that I always feel with him, and let him carry me away.</p>
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